


Tell Me Everything

by Cap1942



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual John Watson, Crying, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sherlock, Happy Ending, Hugs, Hurt John Watson, Hurt Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentioned Mary Morstan, Past, Poor John, Scars, Suicidal Thoughts, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7264921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap1942/pseuds/Cap1942
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finds himself at another difficult therapy session until Sherlock pays him an unexpected visit where they finally express their built up feelings from their past. Takes place somewhere in the beginning of series 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Everything

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first post! Hope you enjoy :)

"John, you need to let these things out. Something's bothering you, you wouldn't be here if there wasn't a problem," John's therapist Ella confirmed with a pen in her hand and another almost completely filled notebook, with notes from only John's sessions on her lap. John twiddled with his thumbs on his knee trying to get as relaxed as possible but his inner tension was too deep for any type of tranquilly.

He took a deep shaken breath like always before he was about to release something that would change the whole tone in the room. He looked out the window and watched the ominous clouds eat the layer of the hopeful blue sky, replacing it with only a hinted shade of grey; a lot like the grey John felt had consumed his heart.

Ella scanned his face and body. He looked older and more tired than he had since their last session. The golden brown in his eyes had hollowed, his lips were dry and cracked, and his hand unconsciously grabbed for the cane he had given up the moment he met Sherlock.

"How's the baby?"

"Oh...she's fine." John took a pause and lightly smiled to himself. "Yeah, lots of crying, noise, and a whole lot of work but she's fine," the man said running his hand stressfully down his face.

"And Mary?"

He scoffed, "Thinks I'm out getting the milk. You know how she feels about our sessions." He trailed off into a distant stare. "She's scared that I'm going to tell you about what she did but... she doesn't know that I've already told you everything." He bit down on his lip staring blankly at the carpet.

Ella looked down at her paper and clicked open her pen. "What about Sherlock?" Her eyes watched John's reaction closely. He didn't answer her. He was always a sensitive topic and Ella knew it. He had been spending a lot of time with him the past few months and he was overwhelmingly happy but he had never felt more distant from him.

"John," Ella said sitting up more intently in her chair. "What's bothering you?"

"Everything," he said with a laugh. "Everything I didn't say to him. Everything I've told you and haven't had the guts to tell him." John's expression was bitter. "I wanted to tell him how I felt about the fall, the two years without him, how pissed off I was and still am at him. About Mary and the wedding..." He swallowed harshly, "and how I feel about him..."

She folded her hands,"Its time to tell him about everything. You're a good man John and you deserve to be happy."

"You know I can't do that."

There seemed to be an instant tension making itself known as it invaded the room, completely unaware from the mind of Doctor Watson. "I know. Which is why he came here so you have no further choice."

John's heart dropped and he instantly had a bitter taste in his mouth. Sherlock walked in through the door with a sickly look his face. John stared him down with sweaty palms gripping the arms of the chair he was sitting in. "You agreed to this?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded his head with a weakness in his voice, "I want this as much as you do." Ella got up from her chair walking towards the door with John following close behind her. The walk down the halls to their destination seemed like it consumed them with every step without a point of return. John's head was spinning trying to compile all the things he was forced to admit. He had no idea where to start; he imagined Sherlock felt the same. Both John and Sherlock stepped into the room with Ella nodding at John before she sealed them in. The air was stolen from John's lungs, he couldn't breath. He wanted to escape but there was no where to run from your feelings no matter how hard you tried to fight them.

Sherlock removed his gloves, coat, and scarf obviously feeling the heat of the situation between them. John paced the room slowly looking at the taller man until he spoke: "We were happy. Happy Sherlock, until you just had to go and play games with the devil." John felt the acid in his stomach begin to boil, gradually rising into his throat with each word. "We were solving crimes together living quite well off until you left."

A flashback of Sherlock jumping off the building briefly flashed through his mind making him clench his fists. John was like a loaded gun with four years worth of ammunition clogging the barrel and begging to be fired. "You brought light back into my life. You made it worth living and for you to just be taken away from me like that..." he sniffed in his rage the best he could avoiding Sherlock's icy gaze at all costs. "I can't even tell you how many times I lay awake alone at night thinking of the my gun in the drawer of my side table."

Sherlock's eyes flashed up as he broke silently inside himself truly unaware of the pain he had caused him. "How nicely that bullet would have eased my stress and giving me the chance to be with you again. Believe me I've tried."

Sherlock's cheeks steamed with shock and legs pinched feeling like television static. "All I needed was one word Sherlock, just one. I would have waited for you forever if need be." John sniffled now, as a tear started to break loose from his eye. "I've told you repeatedly, I don't care how you did it I wanted to know why; why did you bloody do it in the first place, huh?" John turned in his direction and started walking towards the detective slowly cornering him in.

"Was it just to prove that you're clever, as always? What could have been so BLOODY important that required you to have to do that to me?" John asked the question that had burned him from the inside ever since it happened and had never gotten a proper answer. "Seeing you up on that building while I was standing on the ground so powerless, all I wanted, all I've ever wanted to do was protect you. And not being able to that day? I've never forgiven myself." He took a minute to compose himself. "I buried you Sherlock. I was at your funeral mourning you, thinking of all the things I could've done to save you and never getting the chance to do so." The guilt he felt was still fresh after all these years.

"How could you do that to me?" He was face to face with him now, John's empty eyes penetrating him and choking Sherlock into answering the question without a single touch.

Sherlock's throat tightened and his mouth thirsted for dilution. His licked his lips fearing the day that he'd have to tell him the truth. Fearing this moment for so long because after this, he would know about everything Sherlock desperately tried to lock away in his mindpalace; hoping that they would never come to light. This moment right here, right now that would make or brake his friendship with his most trusted companion. John had dealt the cards, he laid it all out on the table, all Sherlock had to do was look at his hand.

Would Sherlock win the game?

This wasn't a game anymore. This was John Watson and he wasn't playing any longer. And this time, this time only, Sherlock wasn't either. He was going to give John the closure he needed, as well as what he needed for himself, no matter how much it would put their friendship in danger. 

Sherlock loved risks but this was the biggest risk had ever taken: letting John see him in a different shade of light; vulnerable with emotion he denied so hard to feel.

Sherlock's eyes became clouded, "I did it for you." He blinked hoping John wouldn't notice the water brimming at his eyelids. "Up on the roof that day I made a deal with the devil. I had the choice to either kill myself or let you die. If I would have chosen differently I would have had to bury you. There was no way I was going to let that happen," he said with cold quiet sincerity. He took a deep unsteady breath, "of course I had a plan but it wasn't foolproof, there was no guarantee I was going to make it out of there alive. I was prepared to die for you if it would have come to that."

John's face dropped. He thought carefully about his next question, "Why didn't you tell me you were alive?"

"Moriarty had a very complex web, very top secret I had to take care of it myself." John shifted his eyes down letting out a sigh of stress.

"I couldn't tell you," Sherlock continued, "If I did, you'd come after me." He smiled slightly and so did John adding a scoff.

John paced gently around the floor with folded arms. "I would have choked out Mycroft just to find out where you went. I would have wanted to come with you," John said almost to himself.

"And if something would have happened, I would have never forgiven myself," Sherlock said with an impulse to grab John's hand. "How bad did they hurt you?" John pleaded. "...in Serbia." Sherlock seemed to wince at the question. "Doesn't matter, it seems I've hurt you more than they could have ever hurt me."

"Show me. Right now." Sherlock shifted in his stance with that sickly look returning to his expression and his skin turning paler than usual.

"Alright." Sherlock turned around and untucked his shirt, pulling it up only half way revealing a minimal but dreadful portion of the white scars scattered across his back. Sherlock to this day could still feel the sting from the whips and the unrelenting trickle of blood that flowed from them after his beatings.

"Damn it Sherlock," John said kicking the carpet under his feet feeling sicker than ever and now with a permanent lump in his throat. "Why do you have to put yourself in danger all the bloody time, why couldn't you have just come to me in the first place?" John covered his mouth in case the vomit he felt in the bowels of his stomach suddenly creeped up on him.

"I'm sorry." John looked him deeply in the eyes. Sherlock's eyes were glassy and pretentious. John could see right through his lukewarm stance just by the riven and shattered story his eyes explained to him. He was genuine and soft with his words truly meaning them.

"I care for you so much." John stopped himself, the words exploited and uninvited out of his mouth. But then again everything was on the table there was no holding him back now. The heat surged and boomeranged between the both them. "Seeing you die was harder than the Afgan war. You killed me that day too; for me..." John took off his jacket to cool himself down. "My heartbreak was my own version of death, and I forced to keep living."

John's stomach tightened with his knees shaking and his head heavy. "I loved you Sherlock and still do," John said sensitively his eyes darting into Sherlock, scared by what he was going to say next.

Sherlock was stiff. He had imagined it being said so many times and in so many different ways, he never dreamed it would be said like that; so heartsick. The words seemed to be as though they had been sitting on a shelf collecting dust, so severely unspoken for years on end. Sherlock felt cumbersome in the legs and his heart thumped out of his extremely tight chest.

Sherlock ran a quaking hand through his curls, "oh John I had no idea," he said in his low baritone voice. John was inching closer to him and thinking to himself how such a smart man as Sherlock could also be so incredibility thick at the same time.

Sherlock moved uncomfortably, "I've never been one for sentiment and...love but you've, since the moment we've met, you had always corrupted my mind with affection I never knew I needed." These words more earnest than the last. John grabbed on to the cusp of his shirt for a sense of closeness letting out a suddle sigh of relief.

But Sherlock's face turned dark with the flip of a switch, "but you chose her."

Sherlock's words sliced open John's heart making him let go of the shirt he clutched throwing him off balance and causing him to fall back a bit on his feet.

"It shattered me to see you with her. You were all I thought about and all I ever wanted was to get back to you in the years I was away from London. You were my motivation to stay alive." There was bitterness in his voice.

"Did you know how overwhelming it was to watch the love of your life marry someone else? I would have given anything to switch places with her that day," Sherlock said reluctantly. "That's why I retreated from the wedding early. It was a battle I had no longer a chance of winning." Sherlock had tears in his eyes and so did John; they were both hurting so equally. With a rocky voice Sherlock pressed on, "that night I went back to flat and if it wasn't for Mycroft I would have overdosed. Loving you was the most self-destructive thing I've ever done." Sherlock turned away and shuffled around the floor. "I didn't want to ruin the happiness you had obviously found with Mary." Sherlock hid his face. "Same stands for my exile after killing Magnussen for you, I-I couldn't bare the burden of being wi-without you..."

Sherlock wiped the tears that lay on his warm cheeks off on his sleeve. "...so I supposed if I couldn't have you then this life wasn't worth the effort." John couldn't believe his words. He cried with tears of remorse, they were both immensely at fault. John burned from the inside. Without a hesitation in his step John clung to Sherlock like static on clothing squeezing him securely. John always hated seeing his strong-willed Sherlock cry because he always went through such great lengths to show no emotion at all, so when he did, it was almost alarming but it was also very mundane and reviving to know he was human, which John had never doubted. Sherlock couldn't resist him. He wrapped his arms around his thinned waist pressing his mouth into the crook of John's neck. Their heat was smoldering in between them being ingrained into one another with their rupturing limbs displaying no intention of ceasing the shaking.

"Sorry I can't be strong for you," Sherlock blurted out with a deep sulk in voice and reading John's mind like a book he had glanced at a million times over. Sherlock had really turned off his filter and was committed to the whole "laying it all out on the table," portion of the talk.

"It's okay...there's nothing wrong with feeling emotion as terrible as it might sound." They both inhaled. "I've never loved her the way I love you," John said tenderly into Sherlock's ear while raking his fingers finely through his curls.

"Then why-,"

"Choose her?" John finished. "I was low, I thought you were dead I had to move on somehow," John said sweetly lifting his head from Sherlock's shoulder. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Wait until I came back," Sherlock said muffled in John's neck. "Only if you would have told me. I would have waited my entire life if it came to that." John wedged his palm under Sherlock's chin beckoning his eyes to meet his. "Look at me." Sherlock slowly lifted his head, "I've made a horrendous mistake in marrying her. It was a whirlwind thing, I was so sure of it, thought this was it but, being with you again just the two of us against the rest of the world, I couldn't have been more wrong."

John touched his forehead to Sherlock's, the taller man sliding his forehead slightly lower than the smaller to make it easier to gaze into his pupils and to feel the radiation seeping from his lips. "And when she shot you...that just put me over the edge."

Sherlock interlaced his long thin fingers in between John's holding on tightly as his brought his lips closer to John's finally feeling like he was wanted by the man he had always been devoted to. Both of their bodies were in sync with the way they relaxed and at last the feeling of tension between them began to diminish; forgetting the events of the past, and not caring about anything other than each other and living soulfully in the moment. "I'll never ever forgive her for that," John said ghosting his hand over Sherlock's covered bullet wound that he couldn't help but feel that he caused. "I'm sorry for that too," John added with tenderness in his voice.

"That was my fault I was being an idiot," Sherlock said with a sharp breath again easing his stress.

"Nothing out of the ordinary then." They both laughed at John's smart and quick comment that lightened the mood further.

"God I'm so sorry," said Sherlock halting to get a good look at John and to course his hand up and down the middle of his lovers back. "What have I done."

"Oi, we both had a part in this, we made our mess now its time to clean it up," John said wiping a tear from under his eye.

Sherlock held onto him longer with a breathtaking grip. "What are we gonna do?" Sherlock asked hopelessly in a faint mumble. John exhaled resentfully, "I guess I'll give Mary a call and tell her we're finished. She'll know why I imagine, she's known it's been coming for a while now and I'll let her know that Ella knows everything."

"I'll have Mycroft send some papers over in the morning so she'll get taken care of." Sherlock's face dropped while he locked eyes with John, "what about the baby?"

"There's no reason we can't raise her ourselves."

"I don't know how to be a father."

"Neither do I, but you're the great Sherlock Holmes, you'll figure it out," John said grabbing him by the nape of his neck and colliding their foreheads together. John looked into the taller man's magnifying and kaleidoscopic eyes studying him as much as he observed people; he loved this man to an untamed level. Sherlock looked equally fondly down at his blogger seeing the wear and tear marks he had left forever embedded in his soft aging skin. He finally understood what he had gone through and he had never felt such deep penance for his actions. When he said he was sorry, he meant it with all the heart he thought didn't exist before he met John.

"John I-"

"I know you're sorry. And I know that you know that I'm sorry. We don't have to keep apologizing." John couldn't believe he said that. Ever since Sherlock left that's all he ever wanted; but now that he had it, it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was what he was holding in his arms, a person he would love unconditionally no matter how tough such a love was.

"John?"

"Huh?" John said getting so lost in Sherlock's eyes but frankly not wanted to find a way out and also growing a smile on his face. "I...am so desperately in love with you and I've always been. I just wanted you to know that, and now that I finally have you, I'll never leave you again."

"Unless of course I can go with you."

"Yes," Sherlock said with a laugh in his response while he pulled John closer into him. They sat in silence hugging and swaying for a long while before John spoke gently, "god you're so brilliant and beautiful." He shook he head, "what am I going to do with you?"

"I can think of a few good options," Sherlock said with a lift of his eyebrow and gloss to his tone. John raised his eyebrows grabbing onto the back of Sherlock's neck with a more zealous grip and fire in his eyes, "let's start with this one," John said gently meeting his parted lips with Sherlock's for a slow but vehement long awaited kiss.

Letting the sentiment consume them, they became misty-eyed again from something so long overdue and sheltered from time and the events of the past but instantly becoming something so quenching to their lust and yet so therapeutic to their mental wounds that made their suffering worth every crippling blow.

"I would do it again, take all the pain just to feel you against my lips for the first time all over again," Sherlock said with all seriousness.

"You're fantastic," John cupped his face, "I love you," he added just before pulling him under once more.

For now they were happy and without a care in the world or neither a Moriarty or a Mary to tear them apart. For now it was just Sherlock and John but this time they were together like the universe had intended them to be.


End file.
